


Serendipity

by fearlesslyandforeverlovingyou



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-02-11 01:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2047866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearlesslyandforeverlovingyou/pseuds/fearlesslyandforeverlovingyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has been acting distant towards Kurt lately. Desperate to find out why his boyfriend has been acting this way, Kurt learns that sometimes ignorance truly is bliss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Un-kissed Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first attempt at writing a fan fic, so I hope you all enjoy! Any critiques and or compliments are more than welcome :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so so so much for all your lovely comments! I'm sorry if you're confused as to why there is one less chapter as of today, and that is because I re-read my entire work so far and cringed. I've spent the last two days editing all the chapters and Chapter 6 is still in the works. It should be up in a few days. Sorry for the confusion! I would suggest re-reading what I have so far in case you haven't read the edited version. Thank you again for your cooperation!
> 
> xoxo

The rain was beating against the roof. Normally the sound of rain would have lulled Kurt to sleep; but instead it only made him anxious. Blaine had been acting oddly this past week, isolated and oblivious. Not the confident and playful man that Kurt had become so accustomed to. So dependent on. He figured since their finals results were due any day now Blaine was just stressed. But even Rachel, a person who cannot take a hint, asked Kurt if Blaine was okay. In attempts to soothe him, Kurt was only met with Blaine flinching away; shifting awkwardly in his seat. Whatever was going on with him, Kurt was worried non the less. Blaine had skipped 3 Hudson-Hummel family dinners without so much as an explanation. Carole kept shoving Tupperware full of baked goods into Kurt's arms telling him to give it to the Andersons. Not wanting to let her cooking go to waste, Kurt would give her a tight smile, making a mental note to yet again give them to Finn for his never ending appetite. 

Kurt took a deep breath and rubbed the heels of his hands against his sapphire eyes. He glanced at the clock on the wall, 3:30. 

Thank god I don't have school tomorrow... 

He rolled onto his side and picked up his phone from the bedside table. His eyes squinted from the abrupt brightness that radiated from the phone. He felt the smallest twinge in his heart when he saw that he didn't have any messages from Blaine. He hadn't necessarily expected any, being that it had been almost a week since the last time he heard from him. However, he had grown so used to being woken up by a text from Blaine, stating that he couldn't sleep simply because Kurt wasn't next to him. Those messages never failed to put a smirk on Kurt's face and butterflies in his stomach. He was just about to send him a text when he stopped himself.

Don't bother him, he's fine....

With a disgruntled sigh he dropped his phone back down on the nightstand and stiffly rolled over. In his failed attempts of sleeping Kurt could only think of one thing. Blaine. His eyes and how tired and cloudy they looked lately. His pale lips. His now bony frame. Kurt had never worried about Blaine's health, even when he had a nasty cold he always seemed to power through it. As far as Kurt knew he was the poster child of health and confidence. But now, he wasn't so sure. 

Once again he pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to keep sudden tears at bay. A single tear seeped through the space between his hand, leaving a warm trail against his pale cheek. Angry taunting voices sounded in his head. Convincing him that he had done something wrong. Missed something since the last time Blaine was... normal. He dug his elbows into his mattress, which responded with a tired groan, and sat up. His stomach complained about it's lack of being fed and urged him out o bed. He quickly stepped into his slippers and padded own stairs to the kitchen. Taking a peek in the fridge shattered his hopes of quieting his stomach. There was only half a carton of almond milk, leftover lasagna from God knows when, and small platter of cookies. He took the platter out along with the Almond milk and gently bumped the door closed with hip. 

Too paranoid to take a glass down from the cabinet, he opened the carton and drank straight from it. Normally an action like this would have made him loose his appetite completely, but at the moment he didn't give a damn. He debated if putting the cookies in the oven for a few minutes to heat them up was a good idea when he heard a familiar ding go off up stairs. Kurt bolted up from his chair and was about to dash up the stairs when he realized that not everyone was on the same insomnia sleeping schedule he was. Silently slinking up the stairs he found his phone face down on the nightstand, begging for Kurt's attention. He gave into his phones silent pleads, sat crisscrossed on his bed and unlocked his phone. 

It was from Blaine. 

'I need you.' 

Blaine needed him. At 3:45 in the morning. 

Kurt didn't need anymore reason to pounce out of bed. He quickly changed out of his silk pajamas, pocketed his car keys and gently closed his bedroom door. Finn was snoring deafeningly in the room parallel to his. Ever since Carole and Burt had gotten married Kurt and Finn had grown a lot closer. Despite Kurt's crush on Finn back in the day it really felt like Kurt had a brother now. He quickly padded down the stairs and into the garage where his Navigator was parked. Opening the door he sat down in the driver’s seat, looking at himself in the rear view mirror. His eyes had lost their usual spark, a dark blue that could only be described as an ocean during a storm. The image of Blaine's eyes appeared into his head. His eyes were like a luxury to look at; to get lost in. Always so warm and understanding. The golden brown and forest green mixed together so beautifully, never failing to take Kurt's breath away. How a sparkling gold fenced in the browns and greens, immediately entrancing anyone who dared look into them. Something out of the corner of his eye drew his attention to the passenger seat. It was Blaine's Dalton hoodie. Shaking his head in an attempt to wake himself up, he turned the key in the ignition, hoping the roar of the engine wouldn't wake anybody up. But nothing happened. With a confused look on his face Kurt tried once again to start up his car. Nothing.

"Dammit." Kurt whispered to himself. "Well this is just fantastic..."

He got out of his car, taking the jacket that Blaine had left in the passenger seat earlier that week. Kurt leaned against his car and held the jacket to his chest. Bringing it up to his face, he breathed in the scent that he was so familiar with. A scent that brought comfort and warmth. The perfect mixture of overly priced cologne and vanilla. A smile tugged at the corner of his thin lips at the memory of the last time Blaine was in his car. They had just gotten out of school; they both had finals that day, being that summer was just around the corner. Blaine had stayed up that entire night helping Kurt cram for his Chemistry final, insisting that Kurt knew each formula frontwards and backwards. Kurt smiled, remembering how disheveled Blaine's hair had become after hours of studying; a few loose curls sprang free from his hair product. At some point during the long car ride home, Blaine had placed his hand on Kurt's knee. Lazily stroking his hand up and down his thigh. Kurt threw Blaine a look that said "don't you dare Blaine Anderson." A few stokes later Kurt pulled to the side of the road and practically flung himself onto Blaine. The gear shift digging painfully into his rib cage. 

"Blaine." 

"Mmm?" Blaine's mouth grazed Kurt's jaw line. His breath warming Kurt's neck. 

"Unless you want your boyfriend to be impaled I suggest we take this to the back." Quirking an eyebrow Kurt climbed over the counsel and immediately found himself pinned down to the leather interior. Blaine's eyes were dark, full of desire and need. He pressed sloppy, urgent kisses to any part of Kurt he could find. The tip of his nose. His neck. Forehead. 

"Are you planning on taking off this sweatshirt or should I do it myself?" Blaine's breathe was hot in his ear. Trapping his breathe in his throat. Kurt practically tore it off of Blaine, flinging it to the front portion of the car. 

The windows were fogged up and he had 3 missed calls from Burt. "Shit. I forgot we were supposed to have dinner with Burt and Carole tonight." 

"Oops." Blaine nuzzled his face into the nook of Kurt's neck. Inhaling deeply. He pressed a gentle kiss to his collar bone. "I guess we had dessert before dinner, huh?" He raised an eyebrow and dropped his chin on Kurt's chest. 

"You're awful, you know that?" 

"Yup. And you, still love me." 

"I'm thinking about it." Kurt placed his hand on the back of Blaine's neck. His dark curls entangled themselves in Kurt's slender fingers. That was the last time Kurt had seen Blaine truly happy.

The sudden vibration from his phone pulled out of his daydream. 

'Please.'

His heart beated faster, what could Blaine possibly need at 3:50 in the morning? Kurt shook his head, the memory of Blaine's lips on his sent a warm feeling through his tired body. He looked out of the open garage door at the rain, pouring almost desperately on the gravel. Knowing what he was about to do was completely insane, yet oh so hopelessly romantic. He put on his boyfriend's jacket, pulling up the hood, and set out to his destination. He knew the route to Blaine's house like he knew every Vogue cover. It would take approximately 20 minutes to get there, but he didn't care. Blaine needed him. That was the only thought crowding his head


	2. Shattered Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so so so much for all your lovely comments! I'm sorry if you're confused as to why there is one less chapter as of today, and that is because I re-read my entire work so far and cringed. I've spent the last two days editing all the chapters and Chapter 6 is still in the works. It should be up in a few days. Sorry for the confusion! I would suggest re-reading what I have so far in case you haven't read the edited version. Thank you again for your cooperation!
> 
> xoxo

Okay, so maybe this wasn't my best idea, Kurt thought to himself. It was still raining and Kurt was drenched head to toe. His teeth were chattering from the cold and the water had penetrated Blaine's jacket, sending a shiver down his spine. He concentrated on the sound of gravel crunching beneath his boots. With each step he took he walked a little faster, breathed a little harder. The faint smell of Blaine radiated off of his jacket and kept Kurt sane. About five minutes later he finally arrived at the Anderson's house. It was a beautiful two story home. There were ferns and vines twisting up the pillars at the front of the house. Kurt remembered when Blaine had told him that he used to pretend he was Tarzan, playing with the vines and hiding in the bushes when he was younger. It always earned him a stern look from his mother and a spanking from his father. He giggled at the thought of an 8 year old with a little bow-tie and hair gel. Kurt looked at the driveway at the side of the house. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion when he only saw Blaine's 1994 Mercedes parked in the garage. It was endearing how attached Blaine was to that piece of junk when he could easily afford a newer model. Just another imperfection that Kurt loved so much about him.

“I could've sworn Blaine told me that his parents had just gotten home from a business meeting in Hawaii." His breath swirled into fog that clung desperately to the cold particles of the air. The tendrils slowly faded until they disappeared.

Blaine's parents were always away, even during holidays sometimes. Whether they really were gone for business or not, Kurt didn't know. Being that Cooper lived in LA; Blaine was left home alone 98% of the time. He never complained though. This just gave he and Kurt some much desired alone time whenever they pleased.

Pulling down the damp hood of Blaine's jacket, Kurt softly knocked on the front door. He wasn't surprised when he was greeted with silence. He was however, surprised to find that the door wasn't closed all the way. With caution, Kurt slowly pushed open the door. There were a few lights on in the house. Kurt was alarmed to see how messy the home was. There were pieces of torn up paper strewn on the floor, along with a broken vase. By now his heartbeat had quickened to a frantic drumming in his fragile chest. Alongside the vase were yellow and red flowers, identical to set that Kurt had given Blaine so many months ago. He remembered how nervous he was that day. Rachel had gone with him before school to help pick them out. She suggested a hideously pink assortment of carnations. When he asked if they had any yellow and red roses in stock, the florist happily put together an arrangement for him. Exactly 21 roses. The number seemed to follow them around. Whether the check for their dinner date turned out to be that amount, or the fact that Blaine had first kissed him on the 21st of January, that number seemed to taunt them. 

"These for a lucky lady I presume?" The florist eyed Rachel approvingly. 

"Uh well-" 

"No, they are for his loving and adoring boyfriend." Rachel cut him off abruptly. 

"Oh... how- how nice." She cleared her throat before she spoke again. "Your total will be twenty-one dollars please." 

They walked out of the florists giggling uncontrollably. "Did you see the look on her face, Rachel? You almost gave her a heart attack." 

"Some people are just so oblivious. I mean, c'mon, any straight guy that has as good fashion taste as you has to do some serious self evaluating." She let out a cackle and kissed Kurt on the cheek. 

Kurt bent down to take a closer look at the paper. It was sheet music, ranging from guitar to piano. Right away Kurt recognized the slanted cursive to be Blaine's. He slowly walked towards the marble stairs, taking care not to step on any broken glass.

"Blaine?" He was met with silence. His heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. He ran up the staircase, taking 3 steps at a time.

Reaching the top of the stairs he heard muffled sobbing coming from the direction of Blaine's room. Kurt's eyes widened at the sound. He took another step closer when he stepped on something. Picking up the object he realized that it was Blaine's phone, the screen was cracked in about a hundred different places. Looking up from the phone Kurt noticed Blaine's beloved Silvertone guitar lying in front of him, completely smashed in, along with more torn up paper. And was that- was that blood creased into the guitars broken rib? The sheet music was for "Black Bird", along with a few other songs that he and Blaine had sung together. Blaine had rewritten it and made the songs his own, with different chords and rhythms.

"Blaine!" He rushed towards the door that stood a few feet away. Kurt was just about to open the door when he heard muffled sobbing. Even though he had only seen Blaine cry a few times, he still wasn't used to seeing him in pain. His heart broke into more pieces than the glass vase down stairs. Just hearing the sobs coming from his boyfriend made a few of his own tears swell, threatening to spill over onto his smooth face. With a deep breath Kurt cautiously opened the door leading to the room that had always brought him comfort and love.

Those feelings vanished into only memories like his breathe in the night air once Kurt saw what was on the other side of the heavy wooden door.


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine's head whipped up at the sound of Kurt's gasp. He moaned in pain at the sudden movement. He sunk back down to the floor. 

"Blaine! What happened to you?" He shut the door behind him, leaving only the two of them in the room that had once illuminated so much happiness and comfort. From what Kurt could see he had a black eye, his lower lip was split and his left wrist was swollen and bloody. His white v-neck was dried with blood as well were his cream colored pants. 

"K-kurt..." it was barely above a whisper. His eyes searched Kurt's desperately, as if he would find an answer in them. 

"It's okay, I'm here, I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" Tears welled up in Kurt's eyes, causing a storm to erupt in the circular ocean, violent waves crashing against the darker blue rim of his eyes.

There was a of blood under Blaine's stomach. His collar bone was a dark purple and green while his fingernails had dried blood encrusted on them. Kurt reached over and tried to cup Blaine's face in his own shaky hands. Blaine recoiled from the touch immediately, sending a sudden rush of guilt through his aching body. 

"Blaine..." He tried to sound soft and comforting, but his voice only sounded more shaken than the boy lying in front of him. "What happened?"

"I... I can't..." His voice was hoarse.

"You can't what?" He looked into Blaine's eyes; all of the confidence and understanding were drained from them. It was as if the forestry that used to be those hazel eyes had been burnt down. Replaced with fear and pain.

"I can't... tell you." Blaine's triangular eyebrows knitted together in frustration and agony. He choked out a sob and pulled himself into the taller boys arms.

"Blaine, I'm here, no one's going to hurt you, its okay...” Kurt gently stroked the back of Blaine's un-gelled hair, instead matted down with blood. He winced when his fingers trailed over an open wound at the base of Blaine's neck. 

"Kurt... Kurt I'm so sorry. He found out about us and... And" another sob trapping his words.

Kissing the top of Blaine's head, "Who found out?" He knew that Blaine's father had never truly come to terms with the fact that his son was gay.

"M-my Dad." Blaine managed to say before another wave of hysteria shook his body.

Rage flushed his face as he continued to stroke his boyfriend's hair. "What happened?" He didn't mean for his words to sound like venom, but they had already started to seep into Blaine's skin.

Blaine tilted his up at the sudden tone behind Kurt's words. Kurt cupped the shorter boy's face in his hands. Blaine leaned into their warmth. He had missed his touch with every fiber of his being, and wanted nothing more than to kiss the soft lips that he had longed for over the past week. As Kurt wiped away the steady flow of tears with the pads of his thumbs there was a loud clap of thunder. Kurt was deathly afraid of lighting and thunder, but the hazel eyed boy needed his strength now more than ever, so he held back the small squeal that threatened to force its way up his throat. Blaine took a deep breath, wincing at the intense pain that radiated from his rib cage.

"Last week... when you and I were on Skype together, my Dad... he was standing outside my door listening to our conversation." Both of the boy’s cheeks flushed furiously. Blaine looked at the ground; he started to pick at a split in the wood as he continued. " I guess he was coming to tell me that dinner was ready. But after we hung up my Dad burst into my room. He told me that I..." tears spilled down his cheeks, Kurt brushed them away and silently urged him to continue. "That I wasn't allowed to speak to you anymore. He said that I'm not allowed to associate with 'fags'". Kurt winced at the harshness of the word. "That's why I've been so... distant lately... Kurt I'm so sorry...” He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, begging the tears to stop flowing. 

"Blaine.... Blaine its okay... It’s okay sweetheart." He pulled Blaine into him and rocked him back and forth. After what seemed like a lifetime, Blaine leaned away from the embrace and took a shaky breath. 

"Today, when my Dad came home, he was in a great mood. He said that he had won some case or something. So after we all ate dinner I went up to take a shower. I guess I left my phone on the kitchen table. While I was in the shower he read my messages... our messages." Kurt's heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second.

"Oh..." he whispered, he could feel the heat in his cheeks rise to the top of his head. 

"I was in my room playing my guitar when he came in...." The memory flooded through his mind like a tsunami as he recalled the incident that happened earlier that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you all so much for reading and for your wonderful comments and reviews! 
> 
> xoxo


	4. Never Been Hit

Blaine had been plucking at his guitar for about an hour when he reached over to grab his phone. When his hand only groped at the empty space on his nightstand his eyebrows knitted in confusion. He could have sworn he brought it up stairs with him. He figured he left it downstairs, too engulfed in his music he decided to go grab it after this next verse was completed.

He remembered his very first guitar lesson. He was about 5 years old at the time. The teacher had made a comment about how the guitar was bigger than Blaine was. Learning music had always seemed to come naturally to him. Like walking, or speaking. John, Blaine's father, had wanted Blaine to join a soccer team, which he did, but Blaine didn't like how the other boys treated him. They laughed at how he always cleaned his cleats after practice, when he did a little dance after he made a goal. Blaine had begged his mother to let him quit, so she suggested music instead. Ever since then Blaine had found his second voice. And boy, did he know how to speak. 

When Blaine came out to his parents, he wasn't surprised when his mother cried and his father hit him with his belt. Leaving a permanent reminder of how much of a disappointment he was to his parents. The scar resided on his right hip bone, burning hatred into his skin whenever he looked at it. That was the first time Blaine's father had laid a hand on him in an un-nurturing way. His father tried to beat the gay out of him. His mother had tried to kiss away the tears and pain afterwards. Blaine had always wondered why his ,mother hadn't tried to stop John when he hit him with his belt. Maybe she too was afraid of his father. As hard as he tried to be straight Blaine couldn't stop hearing a voice in the back of his head, telling him to be himself. That voice was starting to sound a lot like Kurt now that he thought about it.

That night Blaine was feeling rather sentimental and nostalgic. Being that he wasn't allowed to talk to Kurt, he had started to feel incomplete and lonely. Similar to the way he felt prior to meeting his sapphire eyed porcelain doll. Even though his father had no way of knowing if he had talked to Kurt at school, Blaine could feel his presence where ever he went. Taunting him. The faint echoes of his father’s voice calling him a 'fag' shredding his insides apart. Whenever Kurt tried to meet his gaze or hold his hand, a piece of him wilted inside. Having to unwillingly look away or stuff his hands in his pockets. He resented his father more than words could describe for doing this to him. He had been rewriting the song "Black Bird". Music was the only way for him to connect to Kurt without his father being aware of it. He was about to start the second verse when his door was violently flung open.

"Blaine, what the hell is this? Huh?" John Anderson stood in the door way, his face was flushed with anger as he flung Blaine's phone across the floor, landing face up near his feet. It was open to the messages between him and Kurt.

Blaine squinted at the screen:  
'I love you, Porcelain.-B"

"Oh shut it. I love you too, Hobbit. -K"

Blaine's throat went dry. "Blaine!" His father took in a deep breathe, pinched the arch of his nose. "I thought we had a conversation about this already." 

"D-dad, I-" Blaine's heart was beating at a thousand miles per hour. He removed the neck strap of his guitar and was about to set down the guitar when his father suddenly snatched it from him.

"I thought I told you that I would not have this going on in my household,” He gritted his teeth and tried to calm himself down by clenching the neck of the guitar, "And definitely not behind my back." His grip on Blaine's guitar tightened, turning his knuckles white.

"Dad..." Blaine took a shallow breath. Thinking of how to approach this. "I told you, I'm gay and…" He stood up slowly, his hands outstretched with caution. But before he could even finish his sentence his father had flung the guitar towards him. Crushing both a few of Blaine’s ribs and the guitar itself. Blaine fell to floor and whimpered in pain. He clutched his side and looked at the damage. Blood was slowly trickling through the fabric of his white v-neck.

He looked up slowly when he heard his father's breathing turn into short desperate gasps for air. "Blaine.... I..." Guilt shook his body, causing his eyes to turn blank. "Blaine I didn't mean for it to hit you..." He knelt down next to his son and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"Get out." Blaine's eyes met his fathers. A fire had begun to burn the forestry in his hazel eyes. When his father made no attempt to move, a sudden serge of anger over took Blaine. 

"I said get the fuck out!" He shoved his fathers hand off his shoulder and shoved him away from him. 

"Blaine, please. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice was different. It wasn't the normal, intimidating sound that Blaine was so used to. "You're my son and I love you no matter-" 

He was cut off by Blaine's fist coming towards his face. John was able to catch it in his own hand before it could hit his face. Blaine twisted in his grip and tried to break free. Only resulting i falling backwards and hitting the back of his head on the desk. He could feel a thick trickle of blood trail down his back. 

"I never want to see you again." Blaine looked up at his father in an expression that could only be described as disgust. "You are a walking contradiction, aren't you? Calling me a fag one day and the next saying you love me no matter who I am. How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel?" A sudden lump appeared in his throat. "My entire life I have been trying to prove to you that I am good enough. That maybe I'm not good at sports, and maybe I don't like girls, but that I was good enough." A tear fell onto his lap, leaving a small warm spot on his thigh. "But if your idea of a man is what you are," he gulped down the lump in his throat and slowly stood up, "Then I hope to God that I never end up like you." 

John stood there looking at his son. At first he thought the feeling surging through him was anger. But after a moment he realized that it was admiration. After 18 years his son had finally stood up to him. It wasn't until that very moment that he knew just how alike he and Blaine were. 

"When I was your age, my father wanted me to be a doctor." John met Blaine's eyes with caution. "But I wanted to become a lawyer. I loved being right." He let out a small laugh, "I guess not that much has changed. My father wanted me to be something that I didn't. If I didn't have straight A's in school he threatened to take away my entire college fund. So after graduation, I took out all the money from my bank account, and ran away to my mother's house. At that time my parent's had been divorced for about 5 years." He searched Blaine's eyes for any sign of relaxtion, but he only found more anger. "I ran away from my father because I was scared, Blaine. And I've resented him ever since. You're eighteen now, and if you want to move out then you have my permission to-" 

"Thank you, Dad, for finally giving me permission to live my own fucking life. I don't think I've ever loved you more." His body shook with rage. There was a small feeling of gratitude in his shoulders however. Gratitude that he didn't have to become a lawyer anymore. That he could move out and live his life. This only infuriated him more. John reached a hand out to Blaine's hand. He hadn't realized it has clenched so tightly. John slowly raised his hand and placed a few hundred dollar bills between Blaine's clasped fingers. 

"Take it." 

"I don't want your money," Blaine tried to retract his hand but John had a firm grasp on it, "And I especially don't want your pity. Let go of my hand." 

"Blaine please take the money." John tried to sound firm it sounded desperate. 

"You may have been able to buy mom's love, but you cannot buy mine." The tension between their hands grew. John tried to pull it closer to him while Blaine tried to break free of his grip. Without warning, John let go of his hand, causing it to shot directly at Blaine's eye. He fell to the floor and clasped his eye in his hand. 

"Blaine you told me to let go... I didn't think it would-" 

"Get the fuck out." Blaine took a deep breath, "I'll be out by tomorrow evening." 

John stumbled backwards into the hallway and closed the door behind him. His breathing was shaky and his throat was sore from his attempts of holding back tears. He stared at the door in front of him. He eyes trailed to the small chip on the door frame. They had just moved in and Blaine had insisted that he could carry his desk chair himself. The chair itself was heavier than Blaine, but John didn't try to stop him. When Blaine was determined to do something, he did it. So John trailed behind a 5 year old Blaine as he watched him struggle with the awkward shape of the chair. When he finally reached the door Blaine shoved it open with the leg of the chair, which only threw him off balance. Causing him to fall backwards with the chair crushing his small frame. The leg of the chair had chipped a small piece of wood from the door frame in the process. John knelt beside his son and picked up the chair. There were tears swelling Blaine's big hazel eyes. 

He sat up and said, "I'm s-sorry abou- about the d-door, Daddy." He couldn't even look at his father. He was sure he was furious with him for chipping the wood. 

John laughed to himself and plucked Blaine up from the floor and placed him on his hip. "Blaine you are about as stubborn as you are considerate." Even though Blaine had a hurt himself the only thing he cared about was upsetting his father. Blaine smiled up at his father, "S-so you are-aren't m-mad at me?" 

"Of course not. C'mon, let's go downstairs and make the neighbors a thank-you card for the cookies they made us. I heard they have a little girl about your age." John quirked an eyebrow and Blaine giggled into his fathers chest. 

"Do you think she has any dolls I could play with?" 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so so so much for all your lovely comments! I'm sorry if you're confused as to why there is one less chapter as of today, and that is because I re-read my entire work so far and cringed. I've spent the last two days editing all the chapters and Chapter 6 is still in the works. It should be up in a few days. Sorry for the confusion! I would suggest re-reading what I have so far in case you haven't read the edited version. Thank you again for your cooperation!
> 
> xoxo

Still picking at the split in the wood Blaine avoided Kurt's eyes. "And... uhm, after I heard him leave with my Mom, I kind of... I lost it. I was upset with him for putting me through so much... so much absolute shit my entire life, only to give me permission to live my life the way I want to. But mostly, I was angry with myself, for letting him do all of that to me." 

"What do you mean you lost it?" Kurt lightly placed his hand on the crook of Blaine's elbow. 

"I uhm, I tore up all my sheet music. I went downstairs and I accidentally bumped into a vase of flowers. I caught it before it feel, but then I sort of just threw it on the floor. It felt- it felt so damn nice to feel power over something. I was walking toward the fridge to get a glass of water when I stepped in a shard of glass. It hurt like hell at first... but after a few seconds I- I felt so... so relieved. For once a type of pain that I was in control of... And I didn't want that feeling to end..." Blaine looked up at Kurt; he watched as realization slowly melted onto his face. 

"Blaine... Blaine tell me you didn't." He moved his hand down Blaine's arm. When he reached his wrist he slowly turned it over. 

"Kurt, I-I'm so sorry..." Kurt could barely hear him. Tears drowned out all of his senses. The angry lines across Blaine's wrist burned hatred into his skull. Deep and haunting, they trailed up his arm. Becoming more and more clumped the higher he went. 

"Kurt, please don't be angry with m-" Before he could finish his sentence he found Kurt's lips on his wrist. He pressed a feather light kiss to each and every scar. Lifting all feelings of anger, resentment and pain into the thin air. He continued this all the way up his arm. His shoulder. The crook in his neck. The purple and blue blotches on his collar bone. Under his slightly puffy eye. Finally onto his lips. Blaine melted completely. Forgetting every thought and feeling other than love and compassion. 

"Blaine," Kurt reluctantly pulled away from his lips, "We need to get you to the hospital." 

“No... no doctors. Kurt I’m fine...” 

“Blaine, please.” He put his hand under Blaine’s chin and tilted his head up. “For me?”

Blaine sighed. How could he possibly say no to those eyes? “Alright, alright. Fine.”

“C’mon, I’ll help you up.” Standing up and putting his hands out, Kurt helped Blaine to his feet. “We’ll have to take your car, okay sweetheart?” Blaine blushed at the sweet tone in Kurt’s voice. He absolutely adored when Kurt called him sweetheart. 

“Okay.” 

After the treacherous descend down the marble star case and finding the keys on the counter, they fumbled out the door and reached Blaine’s car. Carefully sitting Blaine down in the passenger’s seat, Kurt quickly walked around the front and hopped inside. He turned on the heat and Looked over at his boyfriend.

“Are you doing okay? I’m going to need you to stay awake in case you have a concussion.”Kurt eyed him wearily.

“Huh? Oh... yeah, of course.” He sat up a little straighter in his seat. 'How'd he know I hit my head?' 

The car ride to the hospital wasn't very long. Being that it was almost 5 in the morning, the only people on the road were early morning commuters. Kurt glanced over at Blaine at every stop light they hit. His head was leaning against the window of the car, fogged up from the early morning dew. He noticed Blaine's fist clenched tight into the fabric of his stained shirt. Kurt reached over and placed a hand around it; Blaine instantaneously relaxed and kissed Kurt's fingers, one by one. 

"Mr. Anderson, am I going to need to pull over again?" Kurt's tone was playful, but he had no intention of stopping the car. 

"I don't know, you tell me." Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand and started to push it under the waistline of his jeans. 

"Blaine Devon Anderson!" Kurt snatched his hand away and threw Blaine a warning look. 

"What? I've missed you." Blaine pouted his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows. 

"You may be able to fool the entire human race with that look, but not me." Kurt remained facing forward. 

Blaine crossed his arms and turned away from Kurt. "This is cripple abuse." 

"Blaine De- this is not something to joke about." Kurt frowned, "Besides, you're hardly crippled." 

"Hardly- Excuse me Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, I am beyond crippled." He clutched his chest in fake offence. 

"Uh-huh." Kurt could feel his poker face slipping into a slight smile. 

"Fine. You want proof? Here." Blaine lifted up his shirt to reveal an enormous bruise on his ribs with blood matted around the edges. The imprint of his rib cage on his skin made Kurt squirm in his seat. 

"Oh my gosh, Blaine! Why didn't you tell me?!" Kurt kept looking from the bruise back to the road. He shoved his foot harder onto the gas pedal. 

"Convinced now, Doctor Phil?" Blaine pushed his shirt back down and smiled triumphantly to himself. 

"Blaine Doctor Phil isn't a medical doct-" Blaine quickly kissed his cheek and leaned back into the warm seat. Once they arrived at the hospital Kurt had to help Blaine out of the car. His light weight leaning against his slender frame made Kurt’s insides do little flips. He noted how thin Blaine was. They approached the receptionist at the front desk. She must have been in her late 40’s, but her eyes held a glint of youth that Kurt couldn't quite explain. 

“Hi. This is Blaine Anderson. He needs a doctor as soon as possible.” He ignored Blaine's murmers of 'I'm fine, Kurt, it's not that bad.' 

“Yes, of course. Let me look you up on our computer and we should have a doctor ready for you momentarily.”

“Thank you Miss-“ Blaine squinted at her nurse’s badge. 

“Just call me Angie, pumpkin.” She smiled warmly at the couple and continued to type information onto her computer. 

“C’mon Blaine. Let’s go sit down.” With Kurt’s arm helping Blaine keep his balance, they slowly made their way over to the nearest set of chairs. Kurt grimaced at how vibrant and happy the colour of the chairs were, but was thankful for a place to sit none the less. He glanced over at Blaine, who was pretending to pick a hangnail on his thumb. 

“Hey,” he said softly, putting his hand over both of Blaine’s. “You’re okay now. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He gently brushed his thin lips over Blaine’s temple. 

Blaine sighed contently and leaned his head onto Kurt’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He entangled his fingers with Kurt’s, wincing at the sudden throbbing that made an appearance in his wrists. Feeling Blaine’s discomfort Kurt gave his hand a small squeeze. 

Moments later Angie walked over to them, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. 'Oh, how darling they are.' She thought to herself. The way the injured boy’s head rested perfectly in the nook of the other boy's neck caused a small smile to spread across her face. 

"A room has just opened up.” Blaine unwillingly untangled his fingers from Kurt’s and awkwardly hopped into the wheelchair. Kurt started to get up when Angie put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry sugar, but right now only family is allowed to visit.” 

As she carted Blaine away he looked back with panic written all over his face. Kurt gave him a smile that barely reached his eyes in response. After about fifteen minutes of waiting Kurt realized that it was almost 5:30. His Dad would be waking up any minute now to go to work. He decided to send him a quick text, letting him know what happened and where he was.

Hey Dad, you know how I told you Blaine’s been acting weird lately? I decided to check up on him. We are at the hospital right now. He had an incident with his father. Will tell you more later. Xoxo –Kurt

Moments later his phone vibrated. Looking at the screen he read his father’s response.  
I’ll make my way over as soon as I’m on my lunch break. Don’t worry kiddo. Everything will be fine. 

After constantly reassuring Blaine that he would be okay, it was nice to hear the condolence being reciprocated. He let out a small sigh and let his eyelids slowly droop down, until he was fast asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If this story receives positive feedback then I will definitely post more chapters!


End file.
